


Love and Happiness

by soongtypeprincess



Series: South Downs Retirement [10]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Anniversary, Domestic Bliss, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, Snogging, So Married, South Downs Cottage (Good Omens), Stupid Idiots in Stupid Love, Teasing, get ready for cavities, lots of hot snogging too so
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-30
Updated: 2019-09-30
Packaged: 2020-11-08 13:51:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20836538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soongtypeprincess/pseuds/soongtypeprincess
Summary: 6000 years of friendship. 5 years of marriage. An eternity of bliss.





	Love and Happiness

**Author's Note:**

> I'm no good with summaries, but I hope the fic speaks for itself. I wanted to write something sweet and domestic cuz that's my jam.  
Warlock and Adam make a brief appearance and they're 16 years old in this fic.
> 
> I DO NOT OWN THESE CHARACTERS.

A light spring rain pattered on the roof of the cottage as tiny finches rested themselves on the wooden cross beams under the awning of the front porch to shake the damp off their wings.

Al Green’s voice filled the kitchen as Crowley scrolled through a recipe on his tablet.

He let out an annoyed grunt. “I don’t care about your niece’s confirmation, Susan,” he said. “Just tell how many fucking eggs I need--ah, six! Thank you!”

He turned to the refrigerator to retrieve the eggs, setting the carton next to the stick of softened butter that was in a big silver mixing bowl.

After he set out the rest of his ingredients, he took an apron from its hook on the pantry door and tied it around him.

It was part of a matching set, a housewarming gift from Madame Tracy, handmade by her, of course. They were pink with white frills on the straps and it was dotted down the front with baby blue flowers. 

They never wore them at the same time since they hardly cooked together. Whenever they tried, one of them would shoo the other out of the kitchen to just do it all themselves.

Crowley did most of the baking, however. He loved pampering his angel’s sweet tooth.

“_ Happiness is when you really feel good with somebody…” _Al Green sang and Crowley bobbed his head to the beat and hummed as he sifted his dry ingredients and set them aside in a small bowl.

“_ Nothing wrong...being in love with someone, yeah…” _

He began to cream the butter and sugar when he heard the doors in the sun room open and shut. A sudden delightful feeling rushed into the kitchen and Crowley smiled.

“Hello, angel,” he greeted Aziraphale, who was standing behind him.

Crowley continued to hum to the music as he cracked the eggs into the sugary mixture when he felt a slight tug on his apron string.

He grinned. “What are you doing, angel?” he purred, cracking the third egg into the bowl.

Azirpahale loosened the string’s bow and put his warm finger under Crowley’s black t-shirt.

Aziraphale pressed his lips between his shoulders.

“What does it feel like?” he whispered as he raked his manicured fingernails over his lower back.

Crowley nearly dropped the fourth egg onto the counter as a chill ran through him.

“It...feels good,” he sighed.

Aziraphale nudged aside his loose ponytail that hung low across his neck. “Mm...feels good here, too,” he whispered against his skin.

His hands were warm and Crowley tilted his head as they found his stomach.

“Darling…”

“Mm-hm?”

“You’re distracting me.”

“Oh? I do apologize,” Aziraphale said, pulling away his hands.

Crowley cracked the rest of the eggs into the bowl and wiped his hands with a cup towel.

“What are you baking, dear?” 

“A pound cake,” Crowley replied, “with frosting...or powdered sugar. Dunno yet.”

“Oh, frosting please. I love frosting.”

“Then frosting ye shall have, my love.”

“And sprinkles?”

“Of course.”

Aziraphale squeezed his waist and sighed as he rested his forehead onto his back.

“And what’s the occasion?” Aziraphale said with a coy smile.

Crowley turned to him and kissed his husband’s forehead.

“It’s our fifth anniversary, angel.”

Aziraphale giggled and returned a kiss to him on his cheek.

“Why were you outside?” Crowley asked him. “It’s raining.”

“Afraid I’ll melt?”

Crowley tilted his head, an invitation to another kiss.

“Impossible. Bastards aren’t made of sugar.”

Aziraphale leaned in to kiss him, but instead poked his ribs, making him jump.

“Just like demons aren’t ticklish,” he said, poking him again.

“Oi! Stop it!” Crowley grabbed his wrists as he laughed.

“Dear,” Aziraphale said. “I know we usually wait until dinner, but...I’d like to give your present now.”

“Hmm, I don’t know,” he said with a teasing grin.

“Oh, please! I really cannot wait.”

Crowley crumpled the cup towel and set it on the counter.

“Well...where is it, then?”

“It’s outside.”

Crowley raised a curious eyebrow. “Eh?”

“It’s outside,” Aziraphale repeated as he held out his hand. “Come along.”

“Angel, it’s raining.”

“Yes, you’ve mentioned that. Anyway, it’s in the greenhouse for now.”

“Why didn’t you bring it inside?”

“Because it’s too---oh, just come and see!”

“Hold on, sweetheart. Let me finish up here. Unless you don’t want this cake...”

“How _ dare _you, young man.”

Crowley stirred in the rest of his ingredients and then poured it into a greased bundt pan before placing it in the oven and setting the timer.

He took off his apron and placed it on the island counter before turning back to Aziraphale who was beaming so much that the kitchen seemed brighter.

“Alright,” Crowley said. “You’ve got one hour.” 

Aziraphale grasped his hand and led him to the sun room. 

“Now,” he said, as they walked, “I read that on the fifth anniversary, it’s tradition to gift your spouse something made of wood.”

“Why?” 

“Because...well, I don’t know. It’s a human custom.”

“Who in the bloody heavens thought five meant _ wood _?”

Aziraphale huffed. “I don’t know! Why don’t you ask your Google?”

“Oh, Great and Wise and All-Knowing Google!” Crowley cried out, putting on his classic dramatics. “Tell us which boring human thought wood was a good present!”

“Well, my ‘boring’ gift to you happens to be made out of wood!”

“Angel, I’m joking!”

Aziraphale opened one of the French doors. 

“Close your eyes,” he said.

“Really?”

“Yes, really!”

“You’re going to push me out, aren’t you?”

“What? No!”

Crowley grinned as he closed his eyes. He was carefully guided onto the back patio and down the stairs.

He wiped the raindrops from his face.

“I’m getting soaked out here, angel.”

“Don’t worry. You _ certainly _won’t melt.”

He heard the greenhouse door creak open and lightly sighed at the sultry warmth and smell of tilled dirt. The door closed and the drumming sound of the rain on the roof enveloped them.

“Can I open my eyes now?”

Aziraphale stopped and squeezed his hand.

“Yes, now!”

Crowley opened his eyes and found, sitting in the middle of the greenhouse, was an arched trellis about five feet tall and made with cherry wood. It stood like a sandwich board and was latticed on each side. 

“Did you make this?” he asked.

Aziraphale laughed. “Oh, no! Well, I mean, I tried to make one. It’s, um...over there.” 

Crowley looked to the wall where he awkwardly pointed at what was the most crooked, most badly measured work of carpentry he had ever seen.

He let out a snicker, to which he quickly cleared his throat. 

“Sorry, love,” he said with a smile, “but that’s adorable. Off-kilter a bit...but adorable.”

“Don’t patronize me; I know it’s shit,” he continued as he rolled his eyes.

“Aziraphale!” Crowley laughed.

“As you can see, my craftsmanship is dreadful. So, I went to the garden center in town and they let me look through their catalogue. I know it’s not extravagant. After all, you’re only growing green beans and tomatoes this season, but if you would rather get something, well, bigger or smaller, _ or _fancier, then we can---”

His rambling was interrupted by Crowley’s kiss, and he lightly moaned as he cupped his cheeks.

Aziraphale sighed. “Do you like it?”

“No, I just wanted you to shut up.”

“Crowley...”

“Angel, I love it!”

Aziraphale smiled, relieved. “Do you really?”

“Yes, it’ll be handy! I can put one end on a row of tomatoes and the other for the beans. _ And _the wood matches the bench under our tree by the garden.”

“So your present _ isn’t _boring just because it’s made of wood?”

Crowley smirked. “Of course not.” He kissed him again. “This was very thoughtful.”

Aziraphale grinned. “Well, I am always thinking of you.” 

“Thank you, my darling.”

“Happy anniversary, dearest.”

They kissed, hungrier this time and Crowley moaned as one of his hands snaked down Aziraphale’s back and grabbed his bottom. 

“Oh, you naughty boy you,” he scolded against his lips.

Crowley growled as he pressed his mouth against his neck. 

Aziraphale felt a long tongue travel past his shirt collar and he gasped.

“Been a while since we’ve fooled around in a greenhouse, eh?” Crowley purred.

“Indeed,” Aziraphale sighed.

“I remember Cook coming in one afternoon for herbs to catch you hitching up my skirt behind the aubergines. You turned as red as your rhubarbs that day, darling.”

“She was such a snoop,” Aziraphale said, clutching Crowley’s back. “We were lucky she didn’t report us.”

“Well, she would have hated to see you go.”

Aziraphale frowned as Crowley pulled away from his neck.

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, please, angel. Cook had the hots for the gardener, didn’t you know?”

Aziraphale’s huffed. “That’s preposterous!”

“Darling, I knew the gossip in that house. When Warlock was down for their naps, I was in the kitchen listening to Cook and the housekeepers prattle on about this and that. And, erm...Brother Francis was among the this and that.”

“Well, I--”

“Oh, the way Cook swooned over you.”

Aziraphale grinned. “Jealous, my dear?”

Crowley was now the one who huffed. “Far from it!”

“Well, what was the gossip after she caught us?”

“There was none, but she did give me quite the evil eye after that. Made my day every time we crossed paths.”

Aziraphale rolled his eyes again as he giggled. “Oh, you wicked serpent. I adore you.”

“My angel…”

His lips returned to his neck and Aziraphale squeezed his waist.

“Darling. We should go inside. The cake...”

“Hmm, yes, the _ cake _.” 

Crowley squeezed Aziraphale’s bottom again.

He laughed. “The cake in the oven!”

“Oh, yes! That one!” 

Aziraphale led him back inside the sunroom. Crowley closed the door and came up behind him, wrapping his arms around his torso. He pressed his lips against Aziraphale’s neck and bit him.

Aziraphale cried out as he grasped the slender arms around his waist.

“You love when I bite, hm?” Crowley purred against him.

“Yes...please…do it again.”

Crowley circled him and unbuttoned his waistcoat. He kissed the crook of his neck, releasing a shirt button with every peck, and to finally satiate his angel’s need, he bit him, hard, and sucked at the skin for good measure.

“Ah! Crowley!” 

He clung to his shoulders as the demon continued his onslaught, biting and sucking from his neck and down along his chest.

He swirled his slender tongue around one of his nipples, teasing him and making him whine. Crowley placed a hand on Aziraphale’s back to brace him, and his lips caught the tender pink bud and sucked.

“Ohhh!” the angel moaned as he clutched Crowley’s shirt. “F-fuck!”

Crowley sighed as he pulled away from his chest. 

“My _ dirty _ angel.”

Aziraphale moved his hand over the back of Crowley’s neck and took hold of his ponytail. He wrapped it in his hand and tugged.

He grunted at the pain and Aziraphale grinned. “I’m so glad you’re growing your hair long again.”

“Aziraphale...” he groaned, leaning in to kiss him, but was instead pushed against the arm of the love seat behind him. 

Crowley held onto it to keep himself steady as Aziraphale’s lips traveled from his neck and all the way down his chest, down his torso, until he was on his knees.

Aziraphale lifted the hem of Crowley’s black t-shirt and kissed his stomach, drawing small circles around his navel with the tip of his tongue.

“Ah...ssshit…” His grip on the arm of the love seat tightened as he felt his belt unbuckle and his button and zip come undone.

‘No underpants?” he asked. “You filthy thing.”

“Says the angel on his knees.”

“I love being on my knees for you, dear.”

He traced his tongue over one of his hip bones and grinned when Crowley emitted a deep groan.

“Ugh...Aziraphale…” He threw his head back when he felt a gentle nip on his skin. “Please…”

“Please what?”

“Suck me off.”

Aziraphale kissed his stomach again. “What if I don’t want to right now?”

“Angel…”

“Perhaps I would like to make you squirm a little more...bring you to the edge...”

He lightly kissed the hard bulge that was trapped by dark denim.

“And then leave you aching until tonight?”

“Fuck, angel.” Crowley put both hands in his bright curls. “Don’t tease me.”

Aziraphale ran light fingertips over his erection and looked up at him with a sly smile.

Crowley’s heart skipped as he gazed down at those bright blue-green eyes that always made him weak.

“I don’t tease,” the angel said. “I merely want to prolong your pleasure.”

“You’re going to discorporate me.”

“Oh, darling. On our anniversary?”

Crowley stroked his cheek and smiled. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, my eager husband.”

“Angel, please…”

Aziraphale pressed his lips hard against his erection again as he squeezed his thighs.

His lips hovered over it as he whispered, “I do love when you use your manners.”

He hooked his fingers into Crowley’s waistband again, but a sudden high-pitched ringing from Aziraphale’s study interrupted them.

“Oh! That’s my mobile, I think.”

“Leave it,” Crowley muttered, running his fingers through his curls again.

“I think it’s one of those face calls, dear,” he said as he stood, buttoning his shirt.

Crowley groaned and pulled him close. “Face-Time, darling. Call them back.”

“It might be the children!”

He left the sun room to go to his study, leaving a slightly irritated demon zipping his jeans back up and walking to the kitchen.

He checked the timer and got the powdered sugar from the pantry to begin making the icing. 

“Hello, dears!” he heard Aziraphale say as he walked down the hallway to the kitchen again. 

“Happy anniversary!” Warlock and Adam said.

Crowley smiled as Aziraphale replied, “Oh, darlings! Thank you!” He brought the phone to the kitchen island and held it in front of them. Crowley waved.

“Thank you, loves,” he told them.

“What are you doing?” Adam asked.

“Well, I’m baking a cake and--”

“Um, Francis, what happened to your neck?” Warlock asked.

Aziraphale frowned. “My neck?”

“Yeah, did you hurt yourself? It looks like a bruise.”

Crowley snickered as Aziraphale, his eyes now wide with realization, handed him the phone so that he close his collar button.

“What happened?” Adam asked.

Crowley, still smiling, said, “He’s alright, dears. He gets one of those every anniversary.”

“Anthony!”

Warlock grinned. “It’s a hickey, isn’t it?”

“Bloody hell, Uncle Ant!” Adam said.

Crowley started to turn red. 

“That’s enough,” he said. “You’re embarrassing your uncle.”

“Which one?”

Aziraphale got back into frame. His face was also flushed.

“How do _ you _know what a hickey is?” he asked Warlock.

They hid their face in their hoodie as Adam laughed. 

“Busted!” he exclaimed.

“Francis, I have a boyfriend.”

“_ What? _ Since when?”

“Angel, please. They're sixteen,” Crowley said.

“Did you give Francis his present yet?” Warlock asked, trying to switch topics.

“Yeah! Has he seen it?” Adam asked.

“No, I haven’t,” Aziraphale replied as he gave Crowley a curious look.

“Oh, come on! What’s the hold up?” 

“Yeah, Nanny. Did you not finish it?”

“Finish what, dear?”

Crowley opened the fridge to get out the milk. “You hellions talk too much.”

They listened to the children tell them about their summer plans as Crowley set out ingredients for the icing.

Warlock was going to spend a few weeks in Washington, DC, which they didn’t look forward to, but they did enjoy going to the National Zoo.

“There’s a green anaconda there,” they said. “An anaconda, Nanny! It’s cool.”

“Can’t be cooler than me, my dear,” he said with a grin.

Adam was going to Blackpool with his parents.

“Dad likes the tram tours,” he said, slightly rolling his eyes. “It’s okay, I guess, but we do it _ every time _ we go. But, Mum said we could let him have the trams this year and we can go to the Tower Dungeon.”

“Isn’t that supposed to be a bit spooky?” Aziraphale asked.

“Yeah, but Mum loves spooky.”

Crowley smiled. “Your mum sounds fun.”

They spoke a bit longer until the children had to sign off to study for their GCSEs. 

“Good luck, my darlings,” Aziraphale told them, “and enjoy your holidays.”

“Can we come to the beach this year?” Warlock asked.

“You come every year,” Crowley reminded them.

“Doesn’t hurt to ask!” Adam said.

“Then, no you can’t.”

“Dear!” Aziraphale chided him. “Don’t listen to him; of course you can.”

They said their goodbyes and the angel was still beaming when he set down his mobile.

“They’re growing so fast, aren’t they?" 

Crowley set aside a bowl. “Mm-hm.”

Aziraphale noticed him casting down his eyes and he grinned. “Oh, dearest.”

“I’m alright,” he muttered, wiping his left eye with the heel of his hand. He sniffed and turned to the oven just as the timer buzzed.

He put on the frilly pink oven mitts (another homemade gift from Madame Tracy) and carefully took out the cake and set it on a trivet on the island.

Meanwhile, Aziraphale sat at the table. 

“So...you knew Warlock was dating someone?” he asked.

Crowley grinned. “Of course I did. I’m their Nanny.”

“Well, what is he like?”

“He treats them well, it sounds like. They’ve only been dating a few weeks, angel.”

“But does he attend the same school? Do Warlock’s parents know? I mean, Mrs. Dowling always seemed like an understanding and supportive mother, but that husband of hers. Oh, my goodness! There were plenty of times I had to bite my tongue to keep up our disguises. The things he would say, especially to the house maids! Wretched man!”

“Yes, he is. That’s why Mrs. Dowling is divorcing him.”

Aziraphale turned in his chair. “Are you serious?”

Crowley slid off the oven mitts. “Mm-hmm.”

Aziraphale sighed. “Well...it's about time.”

He paused to clear his throat.

“Darling,” he said, folding his hands on the table, “might I ask what your hellions were on about?”

Crowley pursed his lips as he turned off the oven. “I don’t know what you mean.”

He looked at his husband who was now crossing his arms and giving him a dubious expression.

Crowley grinned and approached him, uncrossing his arms to pull him gently to his feet.

“Would you like to see your present early, as well?” he whispered against his lips.

Aziraphale squeezed him and smiled. “Yes, I would.”

“Use your manners, angel,” Crowley teased.

Aziraphale moved his hands to cup his husband’s face, and he kissed his bottom lip.

“Pretty please?” he said, kissing him again. “With sugary frosting and sprinkles on top?”

“Cake has to cool off for any of that, love.”

“I wasn’t talking about the cake.”

Crowley felt a rush of heat to his cheeks again as he took Aziraphale's hand. He led him out of the kitchen and through the den.

They stopped at the entrance of his art studio and he released his hand to walk over to a canvas on an easel that was covered with a beige sheet.

Aziraphale watched as he slowly pulled it away to reveal the painting underneath. 

Tears instantly filled his eyes as he gasped.

“Oh...oh, Crowley,” he whispered as he approached the painting.

It was an acrylic painting of a sunny and busy day on a certain road in Soho. Underneath an arc of light from the sky, set in the midst of a busy sidewalk and thoroughfare, was the bookshop belonging to A.Z. Fell & Co.

Aziraphale’s tears fell freely as his husband stepped next to him and put an arm around his waist.

He kissed his wet cheek. “Happy anniversary, angel.”

“Oh, dear, I...”

Crowley smiled. “Sorry it’s not wood.”

Aziraphale giggled. “It’s glorious!”

Crowley pointed to one side of the shop. “Look closer. Notice anything?”

Aziraphale produced his readers from his trouser pocket as he examined the painting again.

“Oh, it’s your car,” he said, pointing at the Bentley parked in its usual spot. “And that’s you in the window there!”

He pointed to the black snake with golden eyes that was sunning itself inside the shop window. 

“That was your favorite spot,” he told him.

“Yeah,” Crowley said. “The sun always hit just right in that window. I also liked the look on people’s faces when they saw me.”

He pointed to the other side of the shop. “Look who’s coming for a visit.”

Aziraphale smiled as another tear fell. “Oh! It’s the children! Oh, Crowley, I can’t--”

The Them were coming down the sidewalk toward the shop with Warlock in a sprint leading the way. Dog was happily chasing him, his leash dragging behind him as Adam and his friends followed, their ice creams threatening to fall off the cones.

“Oh, darling. This is…” He removed his glasses and embraced him. “I can’t believe you painted this for me!”

Crowley squeezed him and kissed his temple.

They held each other for another moment before Aziraphale turned to the painting again. 

“Could I put it in my study?” he asked. 

“Of course."

“Is it...well, I mean, is it ready to be moved?”

“Yeah, it’s been ready for a couple of days.” Crowley stepped closer to the easel and carefully removed the canvas. “Just show me where you want it.”

The painting was placed on the wall above Aziraphale’s desk.

As soon as it was put up, Aziraphale hugged Crowley again, making him giggle.

“I’m glad you like it, angel.”

“I absolutely adore it, dear,” he said. “Why wouldn’t I like it?”

Crowley shrugged. “Well, I remember how heartbroken you were when we left London. After we packed the final bits of your collection, you wept all the way back to Sussex.”

Aziraphale rested his head on his shoulder. “I admit I was a bit morose the first few days. But, I’m happy here with you, in our perfect little cottage where I can still enjoy my books--”

“Without the pesky customers.”

He smiled. “And you have your beautiful garden and a hammock to lie in when the sun is out.”

“You don’t miss Soho?”

“I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss the city,” Aziraphale said. “And St. James Park and The Ritz. But that doesn’t mean we can’t visit them again. It’s like...visiting old friends.”

Crowley gave him a soft kiss. “Speaking of the park, do you remember our wedding day?”

Aziraphale couldn’t hold back his happy smile as Crowley took his hand again and they began to sway, as if in a slow dance. “Of course! You were so handsome.”

“Took me weeks to learn how to wrap that kilt.”

“I nearly fainted when I saw you.” His cheeks began to flush. “A full Scottish garb, complete with a sporran, a white blouse, and black leather boots. Took me by surprise.”

“That was the point.” Crowley kissed his forehead. “The kilt was real wool too, and you know I hate wool. But you, my darling. You were so beautiful under the apple blossoms.”

Aziraphale raised his head from his shoulder, grinning as their swaying continued. “I don’t remember ever seeing an apple tree in St. James before our wedding day.”

“Yeah, that was weird, eh?” 

They shared a giggle.

“You wore a black tuxedo with a cummerbund and bow tie in your tartan,” Crowley continued. “I always thought you looked good in black, and seeing you that day, with your face glowing and your hair catching the falling blossoms...oh, my angel, I didn’t think I would be able to make it to you.”

“But you did.”

“I did. Your smile pulled me to you.”

Aziraphale hid his face in his neck. “Oh, my dear.”

“I held your hand to say my vow and you were shaking.”

“So were you.”

He took Crowley’s left hand and kissed it. He gazed at the grey titanium band that held a dark blue lapis lazuli. He ran his thumb over the stone and it glowed.

Crowley pulled him to his lips again and Aziraphale softly moaned under his grip.

“Should we...ice the cake?” Aziraphale asked between kisses.

Crowley moved his lips to his jaw. “Needs to cool a bit longer,” he whispered against his skin.

Aziraphale bit his lip as his fingers traveled to the back of Crowley’s neck and lightly scratched. He closed his eyes when he felt teasing kisses down his neck and he was weak again.

“Crowley...” he sighed as he stepped back. “Later, my love.”

“Prolonging my pleasure again, are you?” Crowley asked.

Aziraphale smiled and held both of his hands.

"Good things come to those who wait.”

Crowley looked at his husband’s ring. It was a golden band that held a red stone, and he swiped his thumb across it, making it flicker. 

“Yes...they do indeed.”

He snapped his fingers and pulled him close again. He put an arm around his waist as Aziraphale’s wireless turned on and Al Green’s voice surrounded them.

“_ Love and happiness...yeah…” _

Aziraphale blushed and pressed his cheek against Crowley’s as he took his hand. 

_ “Something that can make you do wrong...make you do right…” _

An electric guitar picked up and they resumed their swaying, breaking rhythm now and again so Crowley could twirl his giggling husband.

**Author's Note:**

> "Love and Happiness" was recorded by Al Green in 1972.


End file.
